


Fluff Shots

by TheChristmasSerialMurders



Category: Zootopia
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, at first its going to be fluffy, everyone ships them but them, then I'll maybe make it more, too damn hard not to ship these two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChristmasSerialMurders/pseuds/TheChristmasSerialMurders
Summary: In which I explore a bunch of ideas I got on a sugar high. A lot might be a little weird, but what the hay. Some may be shippy, some may not be, but all in all it'll involve our favourite Zootopian pair.First up: The One Where Fluff Gets Flustered





	Fluff Shots

**Author's Note:**

> So this one sorta re-wrote itself while I was beta'ing it, let's just say it did not turn out how I originally planned...

On the one paw, undercover stings _rocked_. On the other paw it, well, sucked. Like hangover-the-next-morning-and-duty-starts-at-six-AM-even-after-only-four-hours-sleep sucked.

 

Sighing inwardly and knowing he'd regret it in the morning, Nick Wilde downed another shot, ( _the bartender_ knows _my predicament_ he thought slightly grumpily, _why can't he discreetly give me apple juice or something?_ ) and carried on buttering up the soon-to-be-unwitting-criminal-informant. The ZPD was monitoring the whole thing closely in a (they thought) inconspicuous utilities van – Nick knew Judy would be watching the screens closely, nose almost pressed onto the LED monitors, ears perked and alert. Wolford and McHorn would be playing cards or arm wrestling, or something equally manly.

 

“So, Spots,” he drawled, as she giggled drunkenly at his nickname, “tell me more 'bout your boss.”

 

It was a pretty blunt question, and Nick could see Judy wincing in his mind's eye, but it was almost 1:30 AM on a Tuesday and he was getting tired, knowing the day ahead of him tomorrow. He just wanted to go home, scrub the smell of booze, sweat and peanuts out of his fur under hot water and faceplant into bed. He had a feeling he'd pass out immediately.

 

The jaguar leaned in conspiratorially, and he twitched his ear attentively, quite sober all of a sudden.

 

“Well, y'see...” she hiccupped, “he's been goin' down to the docks a lot lately. Word 'round the office is that he's shipping somethin' stronger 'n Night Howl'rs.” Her speech was very slurred, but he got the gist of it. They had their next clue.

 

“Thanks...” he started, but her eyes rolled back and she collapsed.

 

_Ah, alcohol. Brings out the best in all of us._

 

He settled his tab, (if he never found his way into this sorry establishment it would be too soon) made sure the informant would get home safely, and strolled cockily out the door, lamenting the fact that it was too late to put on his aviator shades, heading a little ways up the street until he looked both ways and slipped smoothly into the surveillance van.

 

“Carrots. McHorn. Wolford.” He greeted each with a nod. “How was that?”

 

Judy turned from the screens with enthusiasm in her big amethyst gaze. “Great! We can go to the docks right now and see--”

 

Nick rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Sorry Fluff, if there isn't a direct order from Bogo, all I'm doing tonight is showering and passing out.”

 

McHorn and Wolford chuckled, and Judy's ears drooped slightly.

 

“Look, I'm sure it can wait another couple hours, and besides, we both need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow morning.” he wriggled his tail as if to prove his point.

 

“I suppose you're right.” she agreed reluctantly. “But I'll be waiting at your apartment at six AM. _Sharp_.” she glared at him and he nodded, too taken over by another yawn to answer properly.

 

He pretended to cower under her gaze, when the yawn was done, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, fine. You're my ride home, mind helping me out?”

 

Wolford and McHorn burst into titters of laughter and Nick took awhile to work out what he said wrong, replaying the sentence in his head.

 

“Oh shut up. You're such girls at a Furstin Beaver concert, I swear.” he groaned, trying to ignore the bright pink blush quickly radiating up his partner's ears.

 

Without a word, Judy hopped down from her seat and brushed past Nick, stepping down from the truck and into the street below. He twitched his ears, able to hear her foot tapping angrily and rapidly on the pavement.

 

“Right. 'Night guys.” he said grumpily.

 

All they did was burst into laughter, so he left, rolling his eyes as he did.

 

The trip home was quiet and uneventful, Judy pretending to be incredibly focused on driving (he knew, however, that she could hold a cup of coffee and air guitar while singing as well as driving, as long as no one was looking) and he watched the streetlights shining on the street below out his window.

 

Once they reached his place he opened the door and stepped out. “Safe trip home, Carrots. Goodnight.” He said softly and gently closed the door, missing her terse nod and watching as she drove off.

 

He basically staggered through his door, fell asleep in the shower mid scrub, the sound of his soap hitting the floor waking him up. He quickly switched the water off and stumbled into bed, barely pulling the blankets over himself before he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

 

The insistent buzzing of his alarm and a relentless knocking on the door pierced his consciousness and he groaned. “Gimme a sec, Judy, _please_.”

 

Whether it was the use of her real name, or the desperation in his voice, he didn't know, but her incessant noise stopped. “You okay, Nick?” he thinks she asked, he can't quite work it out over the noise of his alarm.

 

“Peachy.” he grumbled, and happened to see the time while killing his alarm. “Six. Its six. Work doesn't start until six thirty and I generally get ready in five minutes. Can't you let me sleep for another 25?” he practically begs.

 

“Nope.” Judy calls through the door. “I wanna try out that new coffee shop nearby. If you hurry, you might get a blueberry muffin out of it!”

 

“Twist my rubber tail, Fluff.” he grumbled, and dragged himself out of bed. If he was being forced to operate on four hours' sleep, he might as well get some good coffee out of it at the same time.

 

He was indeed ready in under five minutes, having skipped the shower since he already had one last night. He grabbed his phone and his shades, unlocked the door and greeted Judy with a small, tired smile.

 

“You _sure_ you're okay, Nick?” she asked gently, immediately on alert upon seeing him with listless eyes and a drooping tail.

 

“Mmmf.” he said through a yawn. “Just need coffee. I hope.”

 

“Alright then.” she said, and turned, heading out to the car, Nick following along in her wake, rubbing his eyes and yawning some more.

 

The drive there was full of Judy rambling about everything and nothing, a sharp contrast to the night before. Nick honestly tried his hardest to be a part of the conversation, but he mostly just sleepily agreed at the appropriate times, his eyes half closed. Before long, they had arrived at their destination and Judy killed the engine after pulling into a parking space half in the sun.

 

“Need me to crack the window for the cute little fox?” she said teasingly before her eyes widened and she slapped her paws to her mouth in shock when her words registered, her ears quickly heating up again. “Oh sweet cheese and crackers Nick...” she started and then seemed lost as how to carry on.

 

Nick smirked. The Great Judy Hopps, _speechless. Priceless._

 

“The only way I could _ever_ forgive you, Fluff...” he started, nonchalantly studying his claws, “is if you come back with a blueberry muffin and the biggest espresso you can get your paws on.”

 

“Deal.” she said softly, and jumped out the car, shaking her head rapidly and heading off to the open doors of the “Baa-rista”.

 

Shaking his head himself, Nick yawned again and settled more comfortably into his seat, the sun on his half of the car. He hummed a little and tapped his claws on the dashboard, but before long he was lovely and warm, and his late night quickly came back to bite him in the tail. “Perhaps a little doze.” he murmured to the empty confines of the car, and his eyelids slid shut without him even realising it.

 

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

 

“Sorry about the delay, there was one huge queue, even my badge did nothing to--... oh.” Judy's speech cut off as soon as she saw her partner curled up against the door, cuddling his tail and lights out to the world. “Awwwwww.” she cooed softly, putting the takeout cups on the dashboard, along with the paper bag with a blueberry muffin and a small slice of carrot cake inside, and extricating her smartphone from her back pocket. She snapped a couple of pictures and winced as she imagined the high pitched squeal that would come from Clawhauser upon seeing it.

 

“Nick...?” she asked tentatively. When there was no response – not even a twitch of the ear – she hummed in thought. _Should I wake him?_ She thinks, _Or should I head to work? What if he's sick? He could have picked up anything and everything in that bar! How would I check? Ah, I could see if he has a fever! How?_ She cast her eyes around the car and immediately noticed the small first aid kit wedged between their two seats. Diving for it, she unzipped it, rooted through it and tutted in disappointment. Bandages, ointment, even a mouldy cookie for help with shock, she supposed, not that it would help now, but absolutely no thermometer. Zipping it closed and replacing it, with a mental note to add a fresher cookie, she worried her bottom lip with her two front teeth. Her eyes lit up as she realised something, but then dimmed again. _No. I can't do that. What if he wakes up? I don't see any other option!_ She argued with herself, worrying slightly that she was losing her mind. _Okay, okay._ She took a deep breath and started moving.

 

When she was a kit, and fell ill, Judy's Mom used to press her lips to her daughter's forehead to discern her temperature, (with 275 kits, thermometers wore out quickly) and while it may not have been very accurate, it was fairly effective. Realising she didn't have any other choice but to do that, she hopped lightly over the gearshift and gently balanced herself on Nick's thighs and stood up slightly so she could press her lips to his forehead, realising too late that because he was in the sun, her estimation would be moot anyway...

 

A soft something landing onto his lap woke Nick up. He didn't yet open his eyes, hoping the problem would go away. It didn't. However, when a soft touch pressed onto his forehead, he frowned. _That was weird._ He blinked open his eyes, but before he did, his nose was assaulted by the delightfully sunshine-y smell of... _Judy_?

 

“Judy?” he mumbled, and he heard her gasp and watched as she plopped into his lap, facing him.

 

“...Nick?” she said so softly, he almost couldn't hear her.

 

“Who else?” he replied grumpily, stretching his legs, which moved her slightly on his legs.

 

“Um.”

 

“Are you always this eloquent?” he snarked, looking down at her, as her horrified purple gaze reluctantly met his own.

 

“Um.”

 

“Look, if you're gonna sit there and stutter can you do it in your seat so that I can get my caffeine shot for the day?”

 

Her ears drooped. “No need to be rude.” She said haughtily and gracefully hopped over to her seat.

 

Nick huffed. “So jumping in my lap isn't?”

 

She bristled. “Thought you were ill. Wanted to check your temperature. _Sorry for caring_ but I suppose that's a new concept for you.”

 

His ears flattened on his head with a hiss. “At least I don't have a bleeding heart that gets hurt every time somemammal stubs their toe.”

 

She glared him down and shoved his muffin and coffee over. “Be like that then.”

 

“Maybe I will.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.”

 

She started the engine with possibly too much force and drove them in angry silence to Precinct One.

 

 


End file.
